Invaluable Honesty
by trickstarcrow
Summary: [ AU - Modern Day Setting ] Jean regrets not being with Marco on that day. [ Hinted Jean/Marco ]


_Honesty is a rare trait that is increasingly sought after when seeking friends in this world. When honest person's trust is abused, the balance is shattered but the cycle continues. In other words, honesty is a trait that is most valuable yet continuously abused in this wretched world._

_Life goes on._

"Jean, at least come with me one time!" Marco insisted, pulling his messenger bag over his shoulder and slipping on his shoes. His casual attire included a new scarf, to lessen the blow of the cold winter day. The absence of snow was a relief, but the chilly climate of the city posed a constant problem for young students rallying on the streets. Keeping warm was essential when attending these massive protests.

The government had grown corrupt over the years, hitting lower class citizens especially hard. Jean understood this, knew this more than the average male of his age. As a second year university student, it was a common topic during political courses. Being a political science major, it was certainly a most talked about subject. However, that didn't mean Jean necessarily _wanted _to talk about it.

Jean sighed, rubbing the back of his head and glancing over at the nearby clock. It read ten minutes before two. _'Just another afternoon for Marco, I suppose,' _He thought nonchalantly, shaking his head. "I've got class in twenty minutes. Next time, alright?"

For a moment, Marco's smile had faded ever so slightly. His gaze shifted downcast, but it didn't last. The shine in his eyes returned, as did his bright and confident smile. "I'll take your word for it then!" He gently pats Jean's shoulder, before grabbing his keys and dashing out the door.

Jean knew there was nothing wrong with feeling uneasy about the situation, but he definitely had a bad feeling about today. The worse part of it?

It wasn't hard to figure out why the ominous feeling never faded through his public speaking class.

Before it fully hits him, Jean's been sitting in class for two hours. Class has been over for several minutes, with many of the students already packing their belongings and heading off for the day. It hasn't even occurred to him that he _wasn't _even paying attention in class. It's an unusual habit, something that only a handful of his classmates noticed. Eren Yaeger was _not _one of them.

"Hey, did you understand what the professor was talking about at the end of class?"

There's no response from Jean. In fact, there's not even an acknowledgment on his part. Eren raises an incredulous eyebrow. "Jean?"

A light smack to the back of his head broke his trance. "Ow ow ow…!" Jean frantically rubbed the sore spot, looking up to see a rather unperturbed Mikasa standing above him. That unreadable look clearly helped the situation.

"Hey! What was that for-"

"Pay attention in class next time," She admonished, before turning to Eren and tugging on his sleeve. "We're going to the library now. If you can pull yourself together, feel free to join us."

Jean ignored the two of them exit the room, still rubbing his head. He let out a small 'tsk!' before turning his attention to a group of students who were still in the room, chattering away about various topics. The few words he heard worried him immensely.

"Did you hear? A bunch of students were badly injured during today's protests…"

"You mean against the government uprisings?"

"What else would I be talking about?"

"I heard the students were from our year?"

"Wait, really? This is news to me…"

"Let's go check it out!"

The gossiping students quickly dispersed to their own activities, leaving Jean to his own thoughts.

Were the government supporters really attacking innocent protestors? While innocent didn't necessarily apply to each individual, Jean knew many of the students that were attending these uprisings and could account for their innocence. All they want is change, a desire wanted by many young adults. People like Sasha, Connie, and Marco.

"Marco…" He whispers his friend's name, remembering his dorm mate left earlier in the day. They haven't made contact since before Marco's departure, and now after overhearing varying rumors, Jean was beyond concerned. It's not that he wasn't concerned before; He's always looking out for his friend's wellbeing, but this time felt different. The uneasiness only grew worse, and within seconds, Jean was out of the classroom and the university building.

The streets were noisy and packed, not an unexpected sight to bear witness to. Between the chanting and constant pushing and shoving of the crowds, Jean couldn't pinpoint what was causing his headache more. It wasn't just his head pounding- His heart rate had increased tenfold and it was starting to become unbearable. It wasn't hard to comprehend the pain people went through in order to bring about change, but this clearly wasn't getting anywhere.

So where was Marco? His main priority was the cause of his dizzying anxiety, and it was of utmost important that he find his friend safe and sound. So when he spotted Connie in the midst of an unusually smaller crowd, Jean regained a sense of security. Pushing and zigzagging through the crowd, it wasn't long before he reached the small circle of his friends…

_And his heart nearly stopped at the sight. _

The bloodshed didn't even begin to describe the scene. Marco's body laid motionless on the street, a pool of blood gathering beneath his head. There were countless cuts and bruises scattering his bare skin, all of varying sizes. It also appeared that several of his bones were broken. Someone mentioned he was beaten to death, others mentioned he was trampled on. It didn't matter _how _he died…

Marco was dead. His beloved friend was killed because spoke his mind. A good person's life was cut short because he held only the best of intentions.

In this despairing society, Jean couldn't find anything more sorrowful than the loss of an innocent life, of a dear friend. "Unforgivable…" He muttered, holding Marco's figure in his arms, continuing to ignore the blood that now covered his hands.

The tears he shed weren't for himself, but were the tears Marco would've shed at the utter failure of the society they lived in.

From that day on, Jean swore to live by Marco's dreams and desires. He attended the daily protests, fighting for the basic rights they deserved.

Fighting for equality is hard. Finding an honest individual who devotes their words in the fight for equality is even harder.


End file.
